In the Common Room
by Amelia Jean Mannequin
Summary: It may not have been the original intent of the restoration of the Order, but it was an interesting and deliberate subplot. Albus had formed a House of them... He had gathered them in based on their sole commonality: the will to fight against Voldemort. A collection of short stories about the Order members.
1. In the Common Room

**Author's Note: Hello readers! Now that the school year is over, I actually have time to write again! Here is the first (very short) segment of a group of stories I am planning on writing, about the Order. They will not necessarily be in chronological order. Please let me know what you think! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. **

**In the Common Room**

_Remus Lupin_

It was a few weeks after the reformation of the Order, on a late summer evening, when Remus realized what had happened.

He was sitting in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, eating the leftover soup Molly had made for the members with vigor. Having just returned, exhausted, from guard duty, he was pleased to find Nymphadora, Kingsley, and Sirius waiting for him in the kitchen. They were sitting around him, laughing and joking with good spirits.

As Nymphadora changed her nose once again, to Sirius' delight, it hit Remus what was occurring within the dreary old house.

_He's done it again_, he thought with a grin.

It may not have been the original intent of the restoration of the Order, but it was an interesting and deliberate subplot.

Albus had formed a House of them.

He had created a family of a group of people from different backgrounds and different lives, just as he did at Hogwarts. He had gathered them in based on their sole commonality: the will to fight against Voldemort.

Those gathered in the kitchen in that moment, they were the first years. Nymphadora, Kingsley, Sirius, and Remus himself were the young and the innocent.

They were hope for the Order's survival.

They were an investment for the future.

They would learn to survive the journey together.

And there, in that house, in that kitchen, they were greeting each other in their Common Room.

Remus was home again.


	2. Believing the Unbelievable

**Disclaimer: As previously stated.**

**Believing the Unbelievable**

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

Kingsley paced his tiny office quickly, in a state of nervous agitation. The sunken eyes of Sirius Black followed him from every centimeter of space on the wall.

It was easy to imagine_ his _picture in a similar location, plastered up on a wall like a common criminal, hanging from the walls of Rufus' office. _Kingsley Shacklebolt, notorious follower of Albus Dumbledore._ He may not be a follower of Voldemort, but the decision he was about to make was just as dangerous, and just as much of a betrayal to his people.

Yet he needed to follow his heart.

Seizing a scrap of parchment off of his desk, he scribbled a note.

_I want in. I believe you._

_-KS_

Heart rate rising rapidly, he conjured a small fire on his desk and tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the flames, causing them to transform into dancing green tongues. He fed the note to the fire, whispering "Albus Dumbledore" before it disappeared.

His fate was sealed with the final lick of the flames.

Head in hands and heart still pounding, he considered the events of the past few days that had led him to send the note.

Cornelius setting out for the Third Task. His delayed return to the Ministry, raving about Dumbledore and dead men who could not return to life. The cold, hard look of a man toeing the line of crazy as he told Kingsley what had occurred. The short mission he commissioned to Kingsley, of returning to Hogwarts and interviewing Dumbledore in search of motives.

His quivering voices as he told the Auror that he must not believe the man, no matter what he said.

Dumbledore's elaborately woven tale. And he, Kingsley, filled with shock and disgust, yet an unbelievable _belief_.

Perhaps the old professor had seen it in his eyes; had known that, as unlikely as the story was, the younger man's conviction and will to fight were strong.

He has invited him to the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization of his creating. The namesake of the group, a magnificent bird of red plumage, stared at Kingsley as he considered. He could sense the old man's fear, the fear that he had made the wrong choice in inviting a Ministry employee.

Kingsley had stood to leave in a brisk manner, stating that he needed time to consider.

Many pairs of eyes followed him out the door as the paintings on the walls spoke in hushed tones.

And in the present, he sat at his desk, the decision to stand by his boss' adversary ringing in his mind as he waited.

A small fire suddenly erupted and disappeared on his desk, leaving in its wake a new piece of parchment and a red feather. The slanted handwriting carried a surprising message.

_If you truly "want in," it is not I that must be believed. It is Harry who told and witnessed these horrid events, and it is Harry you must believe._

_As for me, I must be trusted._

_-AD_

Feeling as though he was standing before a martial congregation, he signed onto the same piece of parchment, "_I do._"

The paper returned one more time, bearing another potent response.

_Harry is the best hope we have; never forget that. You must believe him, no matter what the press speaks against him. _

_More information to follow. _

_Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix. _

Kingsley sighed, wondering if he would be better off focusing his energies on finding the notorious Sirius Black, and battling evil on smaller grounds.

"Although surely, a chase for one would lead to the other," he murmured to the pictures on the walls.

Now his hope rested in the hands of the boy who had lived once again.


	3. Watching

**Disclaimer: It ain't mine.**

**Watching**

_Sirius Black _

He watched their relationship begin, a smile on his face as he observed from afar.

Remus never called her by her preferred name. He always called her _Nymphadora_, a small smile twisting across his lips with a streak of defiance as he said it.

She pretended to be mortally offended, but it was quite clear that she didn't mind it; she liked it when _he_ said it. There was a sparkle in her eyes each time his lips formed the name she so hated.

She was clumsier around him, if such a thing was even possible. His eyes followed her about the room, waiting for the opportunity to catch her and calm her spinning head, although her heart would continue to race.

And he, Sirius, watched with a unique feeling of joy.

After years of teasing and poking fun at the poor boy, who could never seem to find the right girl, he had finally discovered the remarkably perfect companion. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to tease his friend about it, or even mention it.

He was afraid of ruining it.

He had a habit of ruining beautiful things.

One night, he sat awake with the people who had become his closest living friends: Remus,_ Nymphadora_, and Kingsley. As the former two began to joke around, creating small competitions of petty wandwork, Kingsley slid onto the seat next to him. The man who was supposed to be heading a chase for him nudged his arm, then leaned over to whisper in his deep voice.

"I'm surprised you haven't tried to push them into a dark closet together," he murmured with a low chuckle.

"No," Sirius responded with a frown, "I have damaged enough of Remus' relationships already."

A huge wave of regret washed over him, remembering his countless efforts embarrass Remus or ruin his reputation.

His attempt to put _Snivellus _before the werewolf (he never called the wolf _Remus_, for he knew his friend hated the idea that the canine possessed him). His sabotaging of the few dates his studious friend had gotten. His long-lasting belief that Remus was the _traitor,_ the poor, kind, brave man. 

Stomach churning, he vowed to himself that he would cause no harm to his friend's newfound relationship. He couldn't risk his the happiness of his last remaining childhood friend, not after he caused the death of the others.

And so, with a quiet smile on his face, he watched.


	4. Expectations

**Author's Note: I hate to be picky about Followers and Favorites, but if you choose to add my story to one of those lists, would you mind dropping me a review and telling me why? **

**Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters. **

**Expectations**

_Nymphadora Tonks_

She wished they could see her now.

Countless Hufflepuffs, from her year and the surrounding ones, had laughed themselves silly at her when she first told them of her goal. "You're so ambitious, you ought to be in _Slytherin_," one older student had mocked her in front of the Great Hall. He spent the afternoon in the Hospital Wing, while she spent the evening in detention.

The Slytherins, for their part, had found her amusing without knowing of her ambition. They laughed at her clumsiness and revealed their uncanny knack for impeccable choice of bullying, although they did not know how deeply it had struck.

"Hey _Nymph_," they had mocked her, "the Auror Office can't wait to have you. They need someone with your magical skills of _falling_."

Though admittedly lame attempts at mockery, she had bristled at every attack.

By her seventh year, she had suffered enough jokes from her enemies and enough fake encouragement from her friends. She was tired of the spiteful callings of "_Nymph_" from those with green badges, mixing with the sympathetic calls of "_Dora_" from those clad in yellow symbols.

At the Welcome Feast of her final year, she had clambered onto the long table during the night's pudding. Proudly raising her voice about the chatter, she had declared, "From now on and henceforth-" her friends giggled at her sarcastically formal word choice, "-I am to be addressed as _Tonks._ I shall only respond to such naming. Also," she continued, glaring at the students, "I am going to be a kick-ass Auror."

The teachers had been furious, her classmates had applauded her noisily, and Dumbledore had trouble restraining a grin. From a distance, she even thought that he might have winked at her.

She had refused to attend her detention until it came addressed to _Tonks_, by which point the punishment had been severely amplified.

And in the present, she wished they could all see her. The teachers, the students, and her _parents_, all who thought she was good for nothing but creating trouble.

"Look at me now, losers!" she sang with delight, dancing around her flat. "I _am_ a kick-ass Auror, and a member of a secret evil-fighting organization!"

She spun in circles, tripped on the rug, and fell to the floor laughing.

There was a thrill of pure _energy_ coursing through her veins, and an undeniable feeling of _opportunity _and _anticipation _in every breath.

She had always possessed a steak of defiance, and there she sat, dizzily considered her defiance of the expectations they had set for her.

However, there was one expectation she still hoped to challenge.

Closing her eyes, she returned to the day on the banks of the lake.

A bully had approached her rudely, his sauntering stride displaying his nasty intentions. His face and House were forgettable, but his arrogant step had remained sharply present in her mind.

"Excuse me, but if you can change your appearance at will, why don't you make yourself _pretty_?"

Blinking back tears as the words set in, she had stood to face him with a strained smile on her face. Carefully choosing her words to keep her voice from shaking, she had replied, "Excuse _me_, but since you haven't managed to get yourself a girl _or a boy_ to snog, and you _lack_ the ability to change your ugly face, why don't you stick your wand up your-"

At this point, McGonagall had angrily marched over, unfortunately having only heard Tonks' words. The confrontation was cut short.

While she had tried to appear as though she brushed off the comment, it had sunk deeply into her skin.

Her defiance of that statement was yet to begin.

A knock rang through her flat, breaking her reverie.

"Just a moment!" she called in a sing-song voice. Jumping to her feet and skipping across the room, she stubbed her toe on the annoyingly placed wall. Swearing and stumbling to the door, she pulled it open to greet her visitor.

It was Remus Lupin.

She stood in front of him, toe stinging and mouth hanging unattractively open.

"Erm," he began, twisting his hands indecisively. It was evident that her reaction was somewhat frightening to him. "Would you…like to go out for a drink?"

His voice sped at the end of the statement, showing his nervousness and making Tonks' heart race with joy.

A grin quickly overtaking her face, she murmured to herself, "Take that, expectations."

"Um?" he questioned uncertainly.

"Yes. I would absolutely, positively love to."

She could have been back at Hogwarts, a giddy schoolgirl crushing on the older students who would _never _look at her.

But now, it seemed, one had.

She imagined herself standing on top of the table her seventh year, the center of the room's attention as she defied everything they wanted her to be.

And now, she stood on her welcome mat, the center of this kind man's attention. Achieved without changing her face.

She could imagine Albus winking at her again, smiling at his pupils as they took the paths he had quietly set up for them, and had long waited for them to discover.


End file.
